Meus Personagens.

Olga Tarasov(22) was born in September 16th, 1988 in the town of Drinovci, Bosnia. She lived her whole life in the fields, collecting vegetables from plantations. Her father, Anton Tarasov(48), was an unemployed alcoholic man. Her mother, Zoya Tarasov(40), worked in the fields together with Olga’s three sisters, Eugenia Tarasov(26), Nataliya Tarasov(24) and Polina Tarasov(17). The only man in the house was Anton and he took the benefit to sit around while all the women in the house worked day and night. Olga was the second youngest.
The oldest, Eugenia, who would be 26 years old, was the funny one. She made fun of the girls and joked around all the time. Then came Nataliya, the second oldest, who would be 24. Nataliya was very quiet but sensitive. She noticed everything that happened in their house and always told her mother about her thoughts. Then Olga was born and now she is 22 years old. Olga was the intelligent one. She kept her few books under her bed so her father wouldn’t throw them away, since he didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to work and support him and the family. And the youngest, Polina, would be 17 in two months. She was the pure and caring one. Always giving hugs and making massages in her sisters who worked hard in the fields. Zoya, the mother, was this sad woman who only lived because of her children. She suffered abuse from Anton. He used to beat her up and even rape her or make her have sex when she didn’t even wanted to look at him and smell his disgusting strong breath. The girls knew he abused her, but they couldn’t do anything. They would just sit and cry for their mother, who was submitted to such things.
Olga had the dream of leaving her country and going to Spain to study. She wanted to be educated and help her family financially. But mainly, Olga wanted to have a husband that was the opposite of her father. She wanted a man who was caring, loving, gentle and sweet. She wanted someone that didn’t have any troubles with drugs or alcohol and that would be a great father. Inside her, she held this secret and she would go after it when she’d turn 19.
The Bosnian War started in 1992 and it spread all over the country until the end of 2003. It was in 2002 that Olga’s life changed completely, when she was turning 14 years old. Her sisters were all very young and they lived in a peaceful brown cottage in the road and next to the fields. It was 9 in the morning when the soldiers invaded their house. They weren’t expecting it, since the war was concentrated in the western part of the country, but everywhere, the troops left their mark like dogs that urinate to mark their territory.
There were six soldiers, all dressed in black. The girls were all in their room, cuddling in the bed, afraid and shocked. The soldiers grabbed their mother, Zoya, tied her in a chair. Anton, the father, kneeled and begged for pity. He cried with his eyes red, screaming words of nonsense such as “Please! Take them, but let me go.”
The girls cried and cried, hugging each other. So one of the soldiers took his mask off and asked Anton some information about the Bosnian soldiers and where could they find them. No one in the family could answer questions, since they were only field workers and they didn’t know much about the war or what was happening. So Anton begged and begged again, saying he didn’t know any information and the soldiers tied him up in a chair also.
The soldier put his mask over the table, got the milk that was over it, drank it and took a good look at each of the girls. He made comments about them as if they were cows for sale. Each one had a good feature and a bad one. “Good hips. Brown eyes. But I don’t like the eyebrows. This one… hm… very skinny, just the way I like it.” The soldiers laughed and rooted for their master. So he decided to get the youngest, Polina, who was 8 years old and make her give him oral pleasure. They made the mother watch it all and as he finished it, coming in her face, he laughed and exploded Anton’s head with his rifle, who was crying as nobody had seen him do.
When Polina fell to the ground, the master took her by the arm and threw her over to the soldiers and they took her outside. He raped all of the girls, one after another and as he used them, he threw them out to the dogs outside. Olga was the last one standing. He was tired already, so he asked her if she wanted him to be gentle. She begged for him to do that and so he got his gun and shoved it through her vagina, making fast movements. He didn’t care about his pleasure. He wanted to fuck all the girls, even if his dick wouldn’t work after the third one. Olga screamed in pain and her mother begged him to kill her right there, in that chair.
There were screams outside of the house and inside as well. When the soldier took his gun out of Olga’s vagina, it was full of blood and parts of her insides. So he put Olga and her mother inside the bedroom and closed the door. Sixteen hours later, Polina was thrown in the room all bloody and with her eyes fixed in one point of the wall. She couldn’t talk or manifest any sound. She just stood there, this 8 years old girl. They didn’t give them any food or water. The only thing you could hear for three days were moans of pain and sad tears from everyone’s eyes.
Sometimes they would bring one of them inside and take another one out, to the living room. They would use the girls and put them back in the room. It all lasted seven days, when they had to leave and make their marks somewhere else. So they lined all the girls, including the mother in a row outside of the house and shot everyone of them in the head, leaving Olga as the last one to murder. Her biggest dream now was not to study in Spain or to have a gentle, sweet, loving boyfriend by her side. Her dream was to die. So she thanked the heavens as her prayers would be answered in a second.
The master of the soldiers got close to her, with his thick long rifle, looked in her eyes and said: I’m going to let you live, so you can tell this story to your bitches when you grow old. You are a very lucky girl, you know? And I like you… you were my favorite. He kissed her lips, pinched her butt and left with his troops behind him.
Olga stood in the field, with her whole family dead at her feet. She didn’t drop a tear until they were very far. Twenty minutes passed and she couldn’t move. Then one tear came off from her eye, she put her hands full of dry blood and black ashes of cigarettes that they put out in her skin over her eyes, kneeled in the ground and cried for three hours, next to her loved yet dead ones.
Olga tried to kill herself many times before coming to the United States but all of the tries were unsuccessful. She believed she had something to do before leaving this dimension and she found it out sometime ago. Olga became a writer, spreading her word about women around the world. She wrote a book about the war in Bosnia and how women were affected by it and she told her whole story in the book. Until today, Olga is traumatized about her story, but she needs to tell the world that this happens and make people aware of this kind of thing.
Olga is 22 years old and she is a fighter. She is a woman to respect for all that she has been through. She never had a childhood, she was never happy. And sadly, Olga will never be. Her mission in this world is awareness. Her mission is to light up the world with what made her life deep darkness.

Bruna Palmeiro.